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Dark Devotion [Yandere! Dead By Daylight x Reader]

You are a mystery to both the survivors and killers within the fog. A servant of darkness, a creature created by the entity itself, you are the shadow behind the scenes that provides the survivors with the necessities they need to survive, while also assisting killers with the weapons they need to sacrifice. You are a servant void of humanity, but not one that seeks out despair. An empty slate that perhaps just needs to be taught a little bit of hope and empathy to help the survivors escape once and for all. However, while teaching you how to be human, a few individuals form a bit of a bond with you, one in which will form an unhealthy obsession.

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°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

Trying to get into an online therapy session should not be like entering the fucking backrooms 💀

AOInaning

[Yandere! Dead By Daylight x Reader]

Summary: You are a mystery to both the survivors and killers within the fog. A servant of darkness, a creature created by the entity itself, you are the shadow behind the scenes that provides the survivors with the necessities they need to survive, while also assisting killers with the weapons they need to sacrifice. You are a servant void of humanity, but not one that seeks out despair. An empty slate that perhaps just needs to be taught a little bit of hope and empathy to help the survivors escape once and for all.

Eight. Thrilling Tremors

Danny has always loved the horror genre.

Ever since he was a child, his father would tell him real life horror stories. Those stories of a cat chasing a mouse. A predator hunting down prey. It was all the same stories that ended with a field of bloodshed and a victor that would rise above it all…and Danny was absolutely fascinated with each thrilling tale.

Mutilated bodies would engrave itself into his mind. Haunting scenes with vivid details would replay in his head like a broken flickering filmstrip. From the creepy music to the dramatic pauses, Danny would find his heart pounding in his chest with a wide smile curving on his lips as he became enamored with each piece of horror media he consumed.

However, the exhilaration of facing the unknown, the details from the unsettling sounds to the tense atmosphere— none of those things were his favorite part. And for a while, Danny actually wasn’t sure what he loved so much about the genre. He knew he loved true horror. The real stories of monsters that lurk in the night. The real boogeyman that blends into society. He was captivated by true, raw horror. 

So, that begged the question, was he simply just entertained by the reality of human nature? Did he just enjoy seeing how ‘civilized’ people would react to the real demons that ran around with the same blood that they bled? 

Or, did he simply love horror because it fed into his own bloodlust?

When Danny brought his first horror story to life, he knew he had found the answer. Although his first design was sloppy, it was still created with passion that was driven by instinct, and that was when Danny had come to a realization. 

Humans are animals. They are destructive by nature. As intelligent and ‘evolved’ as they may be, Danny knew that all humans have primal instincts, and those instincts were bloody and chaotic. Some may deny it, but Danny knew the truth. And if he was going to accept his human nature as a whole, he may as well be creative with it.

So, Danny went on with his life, loving every second of it. He loved existing as a human. He loved having the ability to create. And most of all, he loved creating real life horror stories. Obviously, his passion is looked down upon. But that doesn’t stop him. If anything, Danny was glad that the playing field was so small. It made it easier for his work to stick out, and it made his stories even scarier.

However, as much as Danny adored bringing terror to the public, he always had to be cautious of his work. His designs needed to be perfect. Any flaw could wind him up in the electric chair. So, even if he loved sharing his stories, Danny would often feel dread when he would have to lay low under the radar. After completing each design, Danny would have to stop his work for a while, and that often gave him an uncomfortable itch that would sometimes leave him wishing he could freely create his stories without feeling the burden of the consequences.

It was simply just wishful thinking during those impatient times, but unknown to Danny, his wishes would be heard.

So, one could only imagine the delight he felt the moment he was wrapped around in a fog, a darkness consuming him until his eyes met the flickering red and orange flame of a campfire where an other-worldly being had suddenly emerged. Stepping in front of him from beyond a black fog, you had gazed down at Danny with empty, soulless [eye color] eyes as you introduced him to a realm of nightmares. 

And Danny was absolutely ecstatic to be there.

Like an artist given his own studio with an endless supply of paints and canvas, Danny was given the opportunity to perfect as many designs as he desired. And so, he would carry on like that in the realm. Danny would create different horror stories for all the survivors on every single map. He even learned to adapt his designs so they would come out flawless! 

It was fun for a while, but then…Danny got bored.

Don’t get him mistaken though. He still loved creating his designs, but he craved for something more. He needed a bigger project. Something that would give him a challenge. Something that would be his Mona Lisa. 

And then, there was you. 

The very first being that Danny had met in the realm. The very first being that Danny knew was on a completely different scale from him. You were something that looked human, but you weren’t. You were something extraordinary. And you were the first being that would become Danny’s new passion project— his muse, if you will.

Thus, leaving Danny to where he is now. 

One of his arms wrapped around your torso, fingers clenched around the fabric of your blazer as he dug into your waist. His other hand was wrapped around your arm and chest, leveling his blade up to your eyes. A smile curved on his lips from behind his mask as he gazed at your reflection in the knife. You were completely unfazed, just as he expected.

“Did I get you this time?” He asked in a hush, observing every feature of your face.

You stared into your own reflection, your eyes moving from your own empty stare before flickering over to the killer behind you. Although you couldn’t see him, Danny could practically feel your eyes bore into him as if he weren’t even wearing a mask to begin with.

“No. I knew you were approaching three minutes ago.” You responded, monotone as ever as you kept your expression stoic.

Danny wasn’t surprised by this, but your response did intrigue him. He had been stalking you earlier, and his interest was piqued when he saw you very subtly reaching out for the flames, so he knew that something was going on in your mind. Just what exactly was it?

Raising a brow, the male tilted his head, “That’s two minutes off from usual.” His voice rasped out. Gripping your torso tighter, Danny brought the blade to your neck and traced the sharp edge over your skin. His eyes focused on your reaction. “What’s on your mind?”

“Is this your question for our game?” You instead inquired, causing Danny to pause in thought.

Right.

Ever since Danny has made you his muse, he took it upon himself to learn everything about you so he could create the perfect design. After all, his first attempt didn’t go exactly as planned… so, he tried a new method— he made it a game between the two of you. He will be merciless in trials, and in exchange, he gets to ask you questions about yourself. 

Obviously, you accepted those terms. And so, he began with the obvious. 

“What is your name?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Where did you come from?”

“My creator.”

“Who is your creator?”

“The entity.”

“Why did she create you?”

“To serve.”

You were honest, but dry. He wasn’t sure if you were just clever to be wary of him, or if you truly couldn’t comprehend anything other than to follow orders. Regardless, Danny didn’t like that you gave him the obvious answers. You weren’t playing fair. Why should he be merciless in trials for you if you were just going to give him the copy and paste answers that you gave to every other killer and survivor?

So, he had to try something else.

He needed to dig deeper. More personal. He needed just a sliver of space that he could crawl his way into so he could witness just a glimpse into your mind. So far he had been asking all of the practical stuff, and up till now that’s gotten him nowhere since the start of his passion project. Not as if he was in any rush to start his design, of course. Danny is quite a patient man by nature, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t getting annoyed by how bland you were being with him. 

Looking over your empty stare, Danny took a moment to study you. 

Danny is a people person. So he knew how to read people no matter the poker face, and you were no exception. Memorizing every detail of your features, the man could say with confidence that he could probably draw your face from memory. From the patterns in your irises, to any subtle wrinkle on your face. Danny had learned how to read your face. It was just getting you to change just the smallest detail that was the issue.

He needed you to open up. But how?

With his knife held tightly in his hand, Danny let out low, quiet breaths until finally he made a decision.

“Yeah,” he finally chuckled out, “This is my question for our game. What is on your mind right now?”

You still hadn’t moved, but your eyes did briefly glance over the masked killer once more before setting your stare to the fire in front of you where the flames highlighted your [skin tone] skin in a golden hue. 

“I’ve come to realize that I’ve long forgotten what ‘warmth’ feels like.” You spoke, a sort of interest lined within your words. 

This caught Danny’s attention. 

For as long as he’s studied you, he has not once heard or seen you show any kind of interest other than your assigned tasks. So having witnessed your fingers brushing over the campfire, and hearing the very subtle change in your tone, it hooked him in.

“I didn’t even realize you knew what that felt like.” He spoke, keeping a steady grip on his knife. “I thought you said you couldn’t feel anything.”

You took note of his slight change of demeanor, but you remained impassive as you hummed in response.

“Yes, well, I have felt cold before and I have felt warmth before, but it was a long while back.” You paused for a moment, “perhaps a few eons ago.”

“Oh?” Danny perked up, his blade ever so slightly pressing against your skin. His heart was beating quickly with excitement now that he seemed to finally be getting somewhere with you.

“And what might’ve made you lose your senses?” He asked, and for once in a very long time, Danny’s pupils dilated the moment he saw the faintest flicker of emotion appear in your eyes. 

Those usually vacant pools of [eye color]— they widened a bit. The colors brightened and he could see the crinkle at the very corner of your eyes shift from a misty void to a clear display of loss.

“I’m..unsure.”

Your voice, usually crisp and clear, seemed to have wavered a bit, leaving Danny with his heart pounding against his chest.

There. There it was.

He wasn’t sure if he was imagining the whole thing, but he swore for the first time that he saw a moment of weakness.

Danny hadn’t meant to do it. But he couldn’t help it. He pressed his knife hard against your skin. He felt a rush of adrenaline as he pressed the blade into your neck and pierce into your flesh.

He could see the blood trickle down your skin. That deep maroon color dribbling down your clear [skin tone] collarbone and staining your white dress shirt. He could practically smell the iron that stained his blade as he continued to press his knife deeper and deeper before twisting the handle and tearing it across your neck, practically decapitating your head from the rest of your body. 

Holding onto your torso tighter, Danny closed his eyes and savored the sounds of the quiet forest air that was filled with music from your choked gurgles.

Except… that wasn’t what happened.

For the moment his knife pressed into your neck, the blade instantly shattered.

Just like his first attempt on your life, any weapon that would try and penetrate your skin would instantly break like glass. 

Danny watched in stupor as shards of his blade fell into little bits and pieces onto the foggy ground. He was still in a daze, but much like his fallen knife, his illusion was shattered and left him standing behind you with his heart racing and mind numb from exhilaration. 

A long and heavy pause would ring in the forest air. Nothing but the sound of fire crackling would be heard as the two of you stood in silence.

While the killer was coming down from his high, you, on the other hand, stood there unconcerned. If anything, you had foreseen this coming from the moment The Ghostface tried to kill you the first time he brought a blade to your chest. You just figured he would try a different strategy since he wasn’t as bloodthirsty and adamant as The Shape. 

With your vision still fixated on the fire, you briefly moved your attention to the shattered blade on the ground before quickly looking back at the fire. Your body was still in the hands of Ghostface, granted his hold on you had loosened up, but you still kept yourself still as you looked over your shoulder to meet the masked killer’s eyes.

“It seems that you’ve accidentally shattered your knife again.” You commented, finally snapping Danny back to reality. 

Letting his arms fall to his side, Danny took a step back. He was pissed. He was so fucking angry that he didn’t get to actually tear into your throat. He didn’t actually get to experience seeing you bleed and die in his arms. 

However, as Danny stood silently behind you, from behind his mask, the man was practically glowing with joy. A smile was on his face as a breathless chuckle left his lips.

He was also very relieved. 

This is why you were his Mona Lisa. This is why he picked you to begin with. He was so glad you were going to be a challenge. If he had actually killed you, Danny was sure he’d make sure your body would rot from where you stood. But no. Danny was smart. There was a reason he chose you instead of one of the other survivors or killers in the realm. 

Letting out an airy laugh, Danny brought a hand to his head and ruffled his black hair from under his hood. 

He knew he made the right decision in choosing you.

While Danny laughed to himself, you simply stood there and observed. 

Humans, they were so odd. 

You know the sound he was making was that of laughter. You may not understand human nature, but you knew enough to realize that he was showing signs of amusement. You just couldn’t understand from what.

Once Danny settled down, the male finally looked over at you with a tilt of his head.

“This is why you’re my muse.” He commented with a sigh, and walked over to your side.

You couldn’t quite wrap your head around his interesting choice of words, but you didn’t get to dwell on it when he brought a hand to your shoulder. With his attention on his knife, Danny tilted his head in your direction.

“Do you mind?”

You blinked, “Mind?”

He smiled, “Fixing my knife. Can you work your magic again, sweetheart?”

“Oh.” Your eyes then flickered back to the blade broken into pieces on the ground at your feet. “Of course.”

Crouching down, you grabbed the handle of the knife and the biggest part of the blade. With your eyes glowing a [eye color] hue, a fog of black with golden particles floated into your hands and covered the broken pieces.

Danny watched in awe as his once shattered blade came back brand new. 

Again, he was practically grinning from ear to ear as he found that he was going to create the perfect design all for you. He was already buzzing with excitement just to see more of you. Whether you had or hadn’t actually expressed something earlier, Danny knew that either way you were already destined to be killed by his hands, and he was going to make sure that your death was going to be flawless.

Standing back up, you presented the knife to the killer, “Here you go.”

Carefully, Danny took the knife and twirled it in his hand. 

“Good as new,” he breathed out while practicing his jabs into the open air. With a smile, Danny pocketed the knife before turning his attention to you. “Thank you. Hope that didn’t take a lot out of you.”

You shook your head, “Not at all. If you need any more repairs to any of your weapons, I am here to assist.”

“Right, right. I’ll remember that,” Danny expressed lamely, before bringing a hand to his pocket. Still having his blood pumping vigorously through his veins, the male was nearly itching to start his trial. So digging into his pocket, Danny brought out three items: a chewed up pen, his old driver’s license, and originally he planned on taking out a shiny broken coin, but after the illusion of killing you, the killer was just driven by his murderous instincts to kill by his own hands.

So instead, the male brought out a bag. Opening up the small coin bag, Danny took a quick peek at the glowing red triangles and brought it over to you. 

“Do you think I can buy an offering?”

Your eyes not once wavered from his mask as you took his bag. With your eyes briefly flickering down to scan the bag, you kept your voice firm upon returning your attention to him, “What would you like?”

Danny’s eyes were feral and bloodshot. His smile was hurting his cheeks as he already began plotting his next few designs. He may not have been able to kill you today, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be able to create a horror story at all.

So with his head tilting playfully, Danny let out a raspy, shuddered breath. 

“I want a memento mori.”

You nodded. And again, the crawling mist all around the two of you swirled with life. It was comical to Danny. Because while a human skull was formed within your hands, the air around reeked of rotting death.

Breathing in the fog, Danny closed his eyes and relished in the silence of the blowing wind that moved the black mist. If he listened closely, Danny swore that he could hear ghastly whispers move with the rustling forest leaves.

Then, it was silent once more.

Opening his eyes, Danny turned his attention to you. He watched as you stared back into the campfire. With the glow of the fire highlighting your features, Danny took note of your expression.

He couldn’t read you again. You were as emotionless as a doll. Simply standing there with a pretty, flawless mask.

Flickering his attention from your side profile and back down to the skull in your open palms, Danny silently took the skull from your hands and tossed his pen, license, and skull into the campfire where the flames burst with life and shrilled a loud shrieks before returning to crackles. 

As Danny stood next to you at the campfire, the male kept his attention straight at the dancing fire. He wanted to get the trial started as soon as possible, while he was still in a pleasant mood.

Do you write for the doctor,the trickster, or human form Chucky ?

I don’t have any stories for them yet, but I can write for all of them if requested :)

Dark Devotion [Yandere! Dead By Daylight x Reader]

Summary: You are a mystery to both the survivors and killers within the fog. A servant of darkness, a creature created by the entity itself, you are the shadow behind the scenes that provides the survivors with the necessities they need to survive, while also assisting killers with the weapons they need to sacrifice. You are a servant void of humanity, but not one that seeks out despair. An empty slate that perhaps just needs to be taught a little bit of hope and empathy to help the survivors escape once and for all.

Six. Botany Knowledge

Once the sound of even breathing filled the silence of the room, you quietly stood up from your chair. The pierced scraping of wood scratching across the floor and itched at your ears. Your eyes briefly looked over the sleeping brunet, watching as his chest slowly rose and fell with every breath he took.

You could understand why he didn’t want to rest. For someone like you, sleep wasn’t necessary. You could stay awake for as many millennia as the realm remained without ever needing to rest. 

It wasn’t as if you couldn’t sleep though. You’ve just never tried. After all, if it wasn’t necessary, why bother?

It’s different for humans though. Since your creator had a very peculiar diet, you did everything you could to learn more about how to harvest the food source to its most beneficial potential. The more you learned about humanity, and the more you learned on how they functioned, the better you could do to ensure that the entity got to feast well. That’s why making sure the survivors were taken care of properly was one of your top priorities. 

Giving one last look to the sleeping survivor, you turned around and opened up the screen door; making your way over to the next row of cabins.

One by one you continued with your routine. You walked into each cabin, dropping off some bed sheets, and left just as quick as you had entered. It wasn’t long until you were finally down to the last cabin. 

Entering through the screen door, you were mindful to give the wooden door a gentle knock as you made your way inside. You looked around the room, your eyes searching for the brunette botanist, only for you to be met with another empty cabin.

Walking across the creaking wooden floors, your ears instantly picked up the sound of water droplets falling into a bigger body of water. You briefly gazed over to the woman’s desk where the source of the sound was coming from. Placing the neatly folded bedsheets on her bed, your focus went over to the table, intrigued by the contents that were scattered on the surface.

Dozens upon dozens of notes littered the desk. Papers scribbled with messages that started with ‘to me: from past me’ were written over in messy ink. Following the trail of papers, your eyes looked over the various plants spread over the window sill. Many of the herbs and flowers from the realm were planted into small tin cans with little noted descriptions of each flora written on a piece of paper taped to the wall. Each one of those notes had drawn diagrams of the plants, along with detailed paragraphs about the biology of each greenery and theories of what they did. 

All of the notes were so intricate and riveting that you found yourself immersed with all of the contents on the desk. Especially once your eyes caught sight of the very corner of the table where a bowl of water with a tubed outlet was placed. The tube allowed water to dribble out of the small hole and fall into another bowl of water that was placed underneath the desk.

Lifting a hand to the desk, your fingers lightly traced over the notes. Reading over the contents of scribbled passages with curious [eye color] eyes. You took in all of the information like a sponge. Not once did you take your attention away from the papers, not even when the cabin door swung open.

Claudette looked down at her hands with a tender smile.

Her fingers gently held onto the handle of her basket. Various flowers and herbs of unknown origin were bundled into the mahogany hamper. Her hands were scratched up with cuts and bandages, a few lumps and itchy rashes covered her dark skin, but she didn’t mind as she gazed down in awe at the mysterious bundle of flora.

Claudette had just gotten back from foraging around the camp. After the nice blonde woman named Kate had shown her around, Claudette had to excuse herself from the others. The wave of information of the realm had flooded her mind like a typhoon, and she needed an outlet to rethink everything she had just learned. 

She had gone back to the cabin Kate had said belonged to her. Upon entering, she had found herself staring at a desk with hundreds of notes written in her handwriting. All of the papers helped explain the situation to her in more detail. Not only that, but they also brought back some of her memories. 

She had died. 

She could still feel the pierced knives break through her skin. The many hooks that impaled into her shoulder, over and over again as she let out a horrid scream that scratched at the back of her throat. It sent shivers down her spine. Her breathing became disheveled and she began rocking back and forth while holding onto herself. Those memories were becoming overbearing. She couldn’t handle it. She needed to leave.

Once she had shakily grabbed her basket off the floor of her bed, Claudette ran out the door and sprinted into the forest. She ran and ran until the lights from the torches around the cabins began to fade, and she had found herself in the middle of the woods surrounded by towering trees and unfamiliar plants. After her heart settled back into an even pace, she began to recoup by throwing herself into the bundle of flowers.

With shaky hands, she studied the plants surrounding her, her once fearful brown eyes stared down at the flowers in awe. She was shocked to see how many of the flora looked like plants she had known back in her world. However, the plants in this realm were nothing like the ones she had studied. The flowers here were vastly different, glowing neon colors throughout the stems.

Memories of her life in the realm had slowly come back to her, but unlike the ones back in the cabin, these memories weren’t bad. They were fuzzy cut up images of her studying the flora of the realm. The recollection of broken memories were both comforting and familiar pieces of a puzzle that rose with each plant she encountered. She remembered how much she loved studying the flowers in the realm and how her knowledge in botany had helped not only her, but the others in this world. 

She also remembered that all of the plants in this realm were scientific anomalies that had her mind buzzing with questions. These flowers had different purposes, each purpose confusing her more and more as she dug through the dirt and pulled the roots of the plants from the ground to place in her basket.

She had explored the light fog until her basket was full to the brim with unknown greenery. Once satisfied, she went back to her cabin. She was no longer upset, but rather excited to study and learn about the nature of this new place once she was in the safe haven of her room.

All of that led to where she was now. As soon as she walked through the screen door, she paused. Claudette’s eyes widened a bit as she gazed upon the person standing by her desk. 

“Oh, hello.” She called out, placing the basket of plants by the door of the cabin. “Are you another survivor?” She asked with a small tilt of her head. 

You didn’t respond at first. Your eyes just intensely stared at one of her notes, as though you were contemplating on saying something. 

“I see your memories still haven’t returned.” You chose to respond before you finally brought your full attention to the botanist. “No. I’m not a survivor. I am the servant to the entity.”

“Servant?” She repeated, a frown formed on her face. She couldn’t quite remember you. Her memories were still a collection of broken fragments, but she did remember reading through her notes on things about you. 

You were the entity’s servant. The only being allowed to wander anywhere around the realm without being blocked off by an invisible wall. She didn’t know how old you were. What your name was. Or how you were even created. No one knew any of those questions. You were a complete mystery, much like your creator. 

All she knew about you was what she observed from the sidelines. And according to her notes, you were really nice and helpful. A little bit hard to talk to, but that could be blamed on herself since she was never the kind of person to easily talk to people. Other than that, she never thought one bad thing about you. If anything, her notes often wondered if you were anything like her. 

Claudette let a smile curve on her lips. “Oh, it’s you. Is there anything I can do for you?”

You shook your head, your eyes subtly trailing back to her desk. “Not at all. I was just dropping off some bed sheets.”

Claudette nodded. “Okay then. Well, thank you.”

The room was silent once more with Claudette looking at you and her eyes trailing over to her desk, anticipating for you to leave so she could continue to study her notes and bring back other memories to further study the plants within the fog. Although you said you were just there to drop off some bedsheets, you didn’t make any moves to leave after completing said task. You merely stood there, eyes glued to her notes. 

“You’re wrong.”

You finally spoke, your words catching Claudette off guard. 

“Huh?”

You pointed to one of her notes.

“The golden flowers. They don’t provide any aid to healing. However, they do grant one hundred percent bonuses to your currency.” You picked up one of the fragrant primrose flowers that was cut and strayed on the desk. You then twirled the stem of the flower in your hand, your eyes gazing down at the glowing golden petals.

Claudette’s eyes widened. Taking quick strides across the floor, she hastily picked up her notes, her eyes moving from her notes to the flowers between your fingers before her gaze met yours.

“Really? Because whenever I’d burn these offerings I would often feel like they had medicinal properties that would soothe injuries. I actually remember that feeling. I often felt like I was making a difference when it came to healing whenever I would offer the primrose to the campfire.”

You nodded, “Yes, I am certain that the primrose flora do not have any healing effects. What might make you think this could be a variety of factors such as your knowledge on botany or your ability to track injured survivors, however, I don't think that is exactly what you’re referring to.”

Claudette was quick to shake her head in protest, “No! I know the difference! When I would burn any of the plants in this realm, I can tell that it was doing something different, I just didn’t know what.”

“It’s the offering itself telling you what your main objective for that trial is.” You calmly explained. “For example, if you happen to burn a bog laurel flower, then you would feel the need to focus on generator repairs. If you burn a crispleaf amaranth, you would want to focus on escaping. Each offering motivates you to focus on an objective within the trials.”

Claudette gasped, “That makes so much sense!” 

She then fumbled through her papers, her fingers excitedly flipping through all of her notes until she pulled out a brand new sheet of paper. Grabbing a pen, the woman scribbled down the things you had just taught her. She could feel her head thump in pain. Memories of the things she learned from the realm were resurfacing. Thousands upon thousands of questions filled her mind, all in which crowded her thoughts as she turned her attention back to you. 

Regardless of how her head screamed at her, Claudette ignored the pain and grabbed some of her notes. The botanist then proceeded to push the papers into your hands.

“What about these notes? I’ve noticed that the leaves on the crispleaf are highlighted with crimson veins; that's not unusual since they’re amaranth flowers. But! What is unusual is that amaranth are short-lived perennials, or commonly known as annuals.” Claudette grabbed one of the amaranth flowers from the window sill. She brought the potted plant over to you, and carefully lifted it up to your eye level.

“If that were the case, then how come this one hasn’t died?” She then handed you the potted plant. You had to attentively tuck her notes into your arm as you held onto the shining tin of the planted amaranth. 

Claudette didn’t seem to notice you juggling between her things as she scurried back over to her desk and continued to pull out more papers. 

“The Amaranthaceae are a family of annual or perennial herbs. Depending on how the amaranth are stored and what species of amaranth they are, its lifespan can vary, but typically in a stored environment they can live up to a month or two. While in the wild they can live up to maybe a few weeks or months. The point is, the flowers themselves don’t live that long!”

Taking out the sheets of paper she was looking for, Claudette walked up to you and brought you a few charts. On the pages were tally marks scribbled across each line on the paper. Another page had squares with numbers and letters labeled ‘MTWTFSS’ along with a question mark on the top of each chart.

“What is this?” You asked, your eyes scanning over the paper, surprised and intrigued by the details of the notes.

“It’s my homemade calendar!” She exclaimed enthusiastically as she leaned over your shoulder. Her hand brushed against yours as she pointed at the different tally marks on the pages. 

“At first I started tracking time by using tally marks to show how many hours have passed in this realm, but since that got overwhelming, I’ve decided to keep track of time by making a calendar.” She then pointed at the corner of the paper, “Since I have no idea which month I’m in, I’ve decided to just label them all as question marks for the time being, but each one of my months have seventy three days and each day has thirty hours. It just makes things easier since there’s no leap year…or at least not that I know of.”

Scratching her head, Claudette continued, “My memories are still fuzzy, but from what I’ve read in my notes, I’ve learned about ancient civilizations and how some old customs used to use water as a means to tell time.” 

Claudette then left your side to pull out the journal that documented that day she had talked to the two scholars. Her eyes briefly read over the notes once more before she moved her attention back to you. “I had known this realm didn’t have a way to tell time. There are no clocks, there is no sun, and there aren’t any stars to track, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t at least try to record how much time had passed.”

Claudette then excitedly grabbed your wrist and brought you over to her desk. She went on to point at the large claymatic bowl you had previously been studying.

“See this here? This is a water clock, also called a clepsydras. I made it with the clay I molded from the dirt,” She spoke with a proud grin before continuing, “You see, I learned that many cultures used this method to track time,” She explained, her eyes looking through her notes. Claudette then crouched down, her hand still clamped around your wrist, bringing you down to level with her in front of the bowl of water placed on the floor. “There are two types of clepsydra. Inflow and outflow, both methods needing two large containers full of water. This right here just so happens to be an inflow type. You can tell because right here are marks for each hour.” She explained, her fingers pointing to the inside of the bowl where you can see numbers and lines marked across the clay. 

Claudette turned her head towards you. You could see how bright her brown eyes shined as she gazed at you with excitement. “With this method, I can track how many hours have passed in the realm!” She exclaimed, then paused. Her smile wavered a bit as she looked back at the water with her teeth lightly chewing on her lower lip, “Well, it’s not always accurate since I sometimes don’t make it out alive in trials and I come back to find my clock has overflowed, but it works enough for me to get a guess-stimate of how much time has passed.”

Her eyes then went to you and then the potted plant that was still resting in your hand.

“This is what brings me to my question. I know in some customs these flowers are said to be everlasting, immortal- they never die! But flower meanings aren’t facts. These are annual flowers and they aren’t supposed to last more than a few weeks, but they’ve surpassed that number! These annuals haven’t wilted since being planted! Why is that? Same question goes for all the other flowers that are supposed to be annuals!”

She scooted herself closer to you. You could see her cheeks flush with enthusiasm as she excitedly spoke in rapid words. 

“Does this have something to do with the biology of the flowers themselves? They aren’t exactly normal flowers, right? Or is it because the motion of time doesn’t exist here? I realized that like these plants, we don’t grow old. We don’t age no matter how much time has gone by! So far I’ve tracked that a few months have passed since I’ve created this clock, so it’s not a lot of time, but I can’t help but feel like it’s been maybe a few years…”

She then frowned, her mind began to stray for a moment, but before she could go back to any old memories of her previous life, Claudette shook her head. She didn’t want to think too hard on how long she’s been in the realm. What mattered was the present. So with her hands slapping her cheeks, she turned back to you.

“Well, that aside, I believe that we are like these plants,” Claudette brought her hand to her chin, her mind buzzing with questions that she let slip off her tongue.  

”I don't know how it is possible, but it seems as if we are somehow frozen in space and time. Everything I know about the science of how the universe works, it just doesn’t seem to apply to this place. It’s- it’s impossible. And yet, here I am experiencing it first hand…” Claudette pursed her lips, a deep frown settling on her face, “Does this mean that this place defies all laws of physics? I know time is technically just an illusion generated by the limitations of the way we perceive this universe, but still. Time is constant, and yet…”

Rubbing the space between her eyes, Claudette let out a tired sighed, “Oh wow, I shouldn’t be getting so worked up on this. After all, I’m no quantum physicist. I just have a love for the science field, so I don’t know why I started rambling. I doubt you’re even allowed to talk about this stuff, huh? ” She chuckled, moving her gaze to meet your stare.

As for you, you were honestly not expecting her to be so vocal after you had merely just corrected one of her notes. But here you were, sitting with her on the floor with your arms full of papers and a plant in your hand, having a one sided discussion over the nature of this realm. 

For a moment, you had no idea how to reply. There were certain rules that you couldn’t break. Ever since an incident with an old survivor, you couldn’t afford to make another mistake. Not if you wanted to disappoint your creator once more.

However, this survivor wasn’t like him. She was very intelligent, yes, but also carried herself in a way that was transparent. Much like you when you first emerged from the fog. So given what you’ve seen out of this survivor, you know that she is no threat to you. If anything, she could prove to be beneficial if you were to motivate her. 

“This realm is much different from your own. Think of everything you know about the properties that make up your universe, and disregard everything about it. This place isn’t your world. It is the entity’s.” You finally explained, voice stern as you faced the botanist, “Understand this, there are some things in this realm that I am forbidden to discuss, and there are some things that are just too vast for the human mind to comprehend. So know that I will do my best to answer any inquiries you have on this realm, and I’ll let you know if I am unable to answer.”

Claudette’s eyes widened and she took a deep breath. She was half expecting you to shut her down right away since that’s what you’re known to do when asked questions on the entity. Yet, here you were. You listened to her, you conversed with her, and you were ready to answer any questions she had (with some exceptions) but that's besides the point. 

It was unexpected, but it thrilled her. Her fingers fidgeted with the papers in her hand, but she wasn’t nervous. Instead, a fuzzy warm feeling bloomed in her chest, causing her lips to curve up into a bright, excited smile.